


One Way Ticket to Egypt

by Nocturnal_Knock



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu-Gi-Oh! Series
Genre: Christmas, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Teasing, Thiefshipping, Thiefshipping Dirty Santa, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-26 16:04:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13239228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nocturnal_Knock/pseuds/Nocturnal_Knock
Summary: Bakura was never one to care much for his body, even less when he was fixed on fulfilling his plans. For this reason, he went to Egypt to go after the Pharao, even though he had no idea where he actually needed to go. But Marik was really the last person he thought he would be meeting there.Written based on a prompt (smut version) for the Dirty Santa game, run by sitabethel.





	One Way Ticket to Egypt

 

 

Bakura didn't know that Egypt could be so hot, which was technically impossible because he used to be from Egypt. Stupid, he thought, as he marched out of the safe shadow of the airport. He needed to find the damn location of the slate, to where Yugi and everyone was heading, or else he might miss the big party. The big party that he set himself. Grinning to himself, he continued down the road in the direction of the city, hitchhiking a ride from an innocent looking granny that didn't know she just let a potential serial killer into her car.

Bakura enjoyed the rather mild breeze of the open window, stroking back his long hair which was glued in damp strings on his temples. The older women took a worried side-glance at the boy, saying "You look rather pale, my dear, is this your first time here in Egypt?" Bakura shook his head, looking out of the window absentmindedly.

"No. I've been there before," he mumbled. The scenery of beautiful Egypt passed the window before they entered the city.

"Usually tourists don't come here before October," chuckled the woman, "do you have relatives here, or a sweetheart?"

Bakura suppressed an eye-roll and the corners of his mouth managed to turn up. "Not at all, Miss, I'm here on an important business."

The air was too stuffy in this car. The air was too dusty outside. Usually Bakura didn't care about his host's body at all, his goal was more important and Ryou's bodily needs could wait. This time, however, not even he could ignore the warning signs that the body signaled him. His throat was dry and burning nearly as much as his red eyes. Maybe he shouldn't have stayed up the night before, dueling until the sun had gone up to call the next morning. He grabbed for his bag but soon realized he had forgotten to bring water with him. He bit his chapped lips and grinned. There was this burning sensation whenever he thought about his plans. It didn't matter, soon he would show that Pharaoh bastard.

"You wanted to go this way, dear?" The faint voice of the woman was heard under a thick fog. Which thick fog? Bakura tried to blink the dust away, but his sight didn't clear.

"Oh my, boy, you don't look so good. Are you dehydrated? Should I get you a bottle of water?"

 

Bakura shook his head, thanked the woman for the ride and felt for the handle to pull his sluggish body outside, where the heat seemed to press down on him in heavy waves. Whatever.  
Before the old woman could change her mind of letting him go, Bakura straightened his back and stole away into the shadow of the houses. They weren't as close together as in the heart of the city and the streets were dusty and empty.

Dust, dust, nothing but dust, Bakura thought and rubbed his eyes. He leaned back against a wall, wiping his sweat and catching his breath. Bakura didn't allow moments of weakness.  
But at this particular moment he didn't really have a choice, as his knees gave in and his ears started ringing unpleasantly. Alright, he probably /should/ have gotten a bottle of water. Gritting his teeth, he pressed on and took some more steps. It shouldn't be too far, if he went on he should be able to catch up...  
He bumped into something hard and recoiled, trying to see what the obstacle in front of him was. The obstacle in front of him turned out to be a human. Bakura already opened his mouth to say something but only a dry croak got out of it. With a bump he fell onto the warm body, sinking and losing consciousness.

Sinking for what seemed to be hours, Bakura eventually landed onto something soft. A wet sensation cooled off his body, he blocked the light over his eyes with his arms.

"Don't move, Bakura, your body is extremely dehydrated. You might even have a concussion."

"How do you know my name? Where am I?" his voice croaked angrily. Wait, he knew that voice.  
He opened his eyes to squint up at the man in front of him. He let out an exasperated sigh and sank back into the pillow.

Out of all people he could bump into, it had to be HIM?

Marik stood at the end of his own bed, currently occupied by Bakura. A small smile spread over his face, wondering how weird the whole situation was. He couldn't just leave the guy out on the streets, even if he was indeed a nasty character. The feeling of holding Bakura in his arms still lingered.

"Drink this," he quickly said and put a coloured jug with fresh water on the bedside table. "You probably didn't think of giving your /host/ some water during the journey, hm?"

Bakura rolled his eyes and bared his teeth. "I'm not taking orders from anyone. And definitely not from YOU."

He rolled to his side so he wouldn't have to see that stupid face again. Everything about Marik aggravated him, but the thing that aggravated him the most was that irritating gentleness. He used to be different.

Marik watched the man that somehow ended up on his bed for a few seconds before deciding it was probably for the better to leave him alone. Maybe he would even drink some water, when he felt like it wasn't an order anymore. The man shrugged and gently closed the door. He looked at it in silence, his brows furrowed, wondering why he picked him up. That guy only meant trouble, he knew. But he couldn't leave anyone outside in that state, not even Bakura.

Marik sat down at the open window, fumbling with his earring and ruffling through his hair. Old feelings were in danger of welling up once more, which was definitely not good. He had a feeling that it wasn't a coincidence that Bakura landed right in Egypt when Marik was supposed to pick Yugi and his friends up from the airport. Besides that, he was still happy to see him.

 

Bakura slowly straightened his upper body, trying to get up. His limbs felt like lead, which was ridiculous. His gaze fell onto the water jug, sparkling invitingly in the light that came through the curtains of the window. He gnarled lowly, checking whether the door was shut before grabbing the damn thing. The instant he put it to his lips he felt better. A trail of water escaped the corner of his mouth and ran down his throat. The man sighed in pleasure, falling back into the pillow.

"What the fuck that felt good," he murmured. A loud clunk indicated the empty jug slipping from Bakura's fingers onto the floor. He felt incredibly sleepy all of a sudden, and the whole room was spinning.

Shifting to the side of the bed, Bakura tried his best to sit up again, nevertheless, even though his body was all weird and trembling. He looked around, trying to get his bearings.  
So this was Marik's private room. Bakura stuck out his tongue. He never thought he'd actually get to see where that guy was living in Egypt. He had left their history behind, and now he stepped into something he really didn't want to stick his nose into.

Despite his conflicting feelings, he greedily took in everything Marik's room had to offer. It was kept tidy and rather simple - or boring in Bakura's terms - with a few plants here and there to complement the cool colour of the wallpaper. The window was wide open for the chance of a faint wind. Bakura was slightly disappointed to find the room so tidy, there was nothing to criticize. Starting to get bored and irritated, Bakura thought it was time to see the rest of the house.

He stepped away from the room, and something wet and cold fell down from his body. It was a cloth to cool off his body. Bakura twitched his tongue. As his hand was at the door knob, he realized that he didn't have a shirt on. But that little detail didn't bother him too much.

He caught sight of Marik the second he opened the door. There he sat, close to the window, deep in thought. At the sight of him, that familiar strange feeling rose inside Bakura. He wanted to hit himself for wanting to get close to him again. But he stood still, his body shaking. If it was from his dehydration he didn't know. He didn't know anything anymore.

"Oh? You can already stand up?" Marik had noticed him. He raised an eyebrow at the sight in front of him.

Bakura looked at him for a few seconds.  
"I need to go," he simply said, standing there.

"Looking like that, like you just got shipwrecked? I don't think so." He stood up, feeling Bakura's forehead before he could stop himself. He quickly stepped back, Bakura looked like he was about to faint and Marik was worried.

"You're clammy and you look terrible. You should really take more care of this body. I don't think your 'host' would like it much either."

"Since when do you give a shit about my vessel," Bakura hissed, wrapping his arms over his upper body. He suddenly felt vulnerable under Marik's stare and he didn't like that. Nothing should make him feel like that. He was the most powerful soul since ancient times. His fingers darted to the Millennium Ring on his bare chest.

"What are you trying to do," Marik asked in a whisper. "I won't let you simply go outside to wreck havoc again to others and yourself. I do know what you're capable of."

"It's none of your business," Bakura mumbled and took a step forward. But his legs decided it was still too early to support him. The man stumbled forward and fell straight back into Marik's arms. They wrapped protectively around Bakura's body. As he held him up, Bakura could feel that Marik's arms were pretty muscular now. He tried to look away and found interest in a particular big stain of the carpet underneath the couch.

"And you think you can go anywhere like this? You'll fall onto the street like a wet lump a second time."

Bakura glared up at him, not moving an inch. Marik was right but he would rather die than admit it.

"Go and get more fucking water then," he demanded and yanked himself out of Marik's embrace.  
He returned to the bedroom and sprawled across Marik's bed, staring at the ceiling. The thought of returning to Marik's arms didn't leave his mind. He scowled as the man returned to lift the jug off the floor.

"You've gone all soft," Bakura said, staring at the ceiling, "you're not the same anymore. So boring."

"I'd rather be boring than fucked up like you," Marik replied and went back to the kitchen. The sound of water filled the room. Bakura's eyelids felt droopy as the fatigue caught him once more. His or rather Ryou's body apparently needed sleep. That concept was foreign to the 3000 year old soul. The mattress sank from Marik's weight and seconds later he found Marik's face hovering over him. His heart nearly stopped.

"Caught your soft side, didn't I? You'll regret it," Bakura smirked, looking up at Marik. He tried to read him, but that man was as impenetrable as a tomb buried deep in the Sahara.

"I do wonder why I do this," Marik said with a tense expression, "I even let you sleep in my bed, caring for you. But whatever."

Marik watched Bakura gulping plenty of water from the refilled jug, not knowing what to feel. He wondered if he should let Bakura go after this. His heart hurt at the thought.

"Hey, have you eaten at all today?"

Lowering the jug and wiping his wet mouth, Bakura contemplated for a second and shook his head.

"Nah I don't think so."

Marik sighed and got up. He had leftovers from today's lunch in the fridge, which he heated up and put on a plate. Bakura's expression lit up when he saw the plate full of meat skewers.

"Woah, I can have that? Are you sure? Really?" Instead of waiting for an answer, the white-haired boy had already grabbed one of the steaming skewers and bit into them. He nearly burned himself, but was too hungry to care.

Marik snorted and leaned against the door frame, not believing the sight in front of him. In that moment, Bakura looked like a normal boy, maybe a little sickly, eating with relish Marik's self-cooked food. It didn't take Bakura long to finish all of the skewers on the plate. He licked his lips and fingers with relish, satisfied and sleepy.

"I knew you'd like my skewers."Marik approached the bed to get the empty plate, but Bakura stopped him by grabbing his arm.

"Don't think you can blackmail me with meat. I will still do what I have planned to do," he said, a blush spreading on his cheeks. Because of the food, he had nearly forgotten to be angry at Marik. That confused look on Marik's face made his stomach jump once more. Irritating.

But Marik grinned, laughing and shaking his head.

"Don't worry, I just don't want you to collapse on my door steps again. You need to recover so eating is important."

Bakura rolled his eyes. Bothered, Marik lifted his hand to wipe sauce from Bakura's cheek before he could stop himself. Realizing what he was doing, he quickly set off with the plate in the direction of the kitchen again. Thankfully, Bakura was too dizzy to fully react, he simply lay down again.

Washing the dishes, Marik grabbed the side of the sink and shook his head furiously. What was he thinking? No. It was all in the past, they had decided it was easier that way. Bakura had only hurt him for loving him. Why did he have to come back now, to confuse Marik once more?

The door stood open and he caught a glance of Bakura sleeping in his bed. Whatever it was, he would stop thinking about it now, because thinking won't lead to anything. He sat down next to Bakura, watching his sleeping face. Without the nasty smile which was pretty much glued to his waking face, he looked quite cute.

An hour passed before Marik realized he had dozed off in bed himself. Starting up, Marik rubbed his face and looked at Bakura. He was still fast asleep, but didn't look too good. Was his body still too hot? He gently placed a hand on Bakura's cheek and forehead, hoping to god it wouldn't wake him up. Alarmed, Marik stood up to get something to cool Bakura's body off with. The food and water had not been enough to settle his body temperature, after all.

 

"Marik, WHAT THE FUCK?"

Bakura shook the wet hair out of his face as he woke with a start at the sensation of something very cold. He stared disbelievingly up at the man innocently holding another water jug in his hand.

"Oops. I might have spilled some of the water on you, sorry."

Marik tried to suppress a smile as Bakura continued to snarl at him like a wet, angry puppy. His wet hair made him look younger, and it beautifully framed his narrow pale face. Marik quickly wiped the excess water off Bakura's face with a sponge, which led to more angry slurs.

"Are you out of your mind?" Bakura growled at Marik, slamming the sponge out of his grip. It flew straight against the wall.

Marik placed the water jug on the night desk and his face darkened. Bakura could be so hot-tempered, it was unnerving.

"Well, you're having a fever, so I wanted to cool down your body. I can dive you head first in ice water if that's what you prefer."

Bakura laughed, irritated, and water drops sprayed onto Marik's face.

"And that's why you had to wake me like that?" He closed in on the man sitting at the edge of the bed and put his hands on his shoulder. But his face was indeed still pretty hot, and the quick movement made him sway on the spot. So close to Marik, he noticed the specks of light in his eyes and had to swallow. The strange feeling in his gut was stronger than ever, his eyes seemed to be glued to Marik's lips.

"I was so stupid to believe I could just forget you," Marik mumbled. Before Bakura could topple over again, he lifted him carefully into his arms and carried him to another room. The sleep-drunk Bakura protested in a quiet voice, but his heavy head slumped down on Marik's shoulder. Tiles covering the floor indicated that it must be the bathroom. Just as Bakura came to that conclusion, he felt his body being placed into a bathtub. His naked skin made contact with the cold material of the tub and he shivered.

"And what do you think you're doing, huh?!"

"As I said, your body needs to cool off", he simply said, crossing his arms.

"And well, you need to get out of the rest of your clothes, so I can turn on the shower..." Marik looked to the side, suddenly bashful.

"You can give them to me while you take a shower."

Bakura considered that idea for a second. The cool sponge did feel good on his skin.  
"Okay but you have to turn around." He crossed his arms to cover his naked chest, pouting. Red spots had formed on his face.

Now it was Marik's turn to roll his eyes. "It's not like I've never seen you naked, stupid," he whispered to himself so that Bakura couldn't hear, but turned around anyway to face the wall between window and toilet. He heard the ruffling of clothes as Bakura threw them on the tiles and the sound of the shower curtain being drawn.

 

Suddenly there was hysterical screaming as Bakura turned on the shower.

"Oh for Christ's sake it's just water, it won't kill you. What are you, a cat?"

"B-but it's c-c-cold , you fuck- grargh-," Bakura spluttered, coughing as he accidentally got water into his windpipe.

"Then think about your damn body before doing crap like this," Marik mumbled, his voice still as calm as ever.

"I don't know what you're saying, but quit your mumbling, it's so irritating!!" Bakura cursed and there was the sound of his legs bumping on the ground of the tub. Marik, who was still standing in the bathroom, quickly pulled the curtain back to see if Bakura needed help. He was kneeling, bowed down, his wet hair concealing his face.

"Are you okay?" Marik asked in a shaky voice.

"I just slipped, no big deal," he muttered."Now stop staring and go away."

But Marik stayed and took over by grabbing the shower head and gently pouring it over Bakura's forearms and legs.

"You shouldn't just pour it all over you like that." He brushed back the long wet hair so he could take a better look at him. "Can you stand up?"

Bakura looked at him, his face angry, but his eyes were careful, taking in everything that Marik did. Their faces were very close, the sound of water in the background.

A wet hand grabbed him at the collar. "Why do you care?", Bakura said. "Why do you care…? And those stupid eyes of yours!" Marik frowned, confused. "Those stupid blue eyes."

He grabbed him under his arms to help him into a standing position. His hands slid down his sides, holding his hips in place. It was all that Bakura could do to stand upright in the slippery bathtub, and was forced to cling onto Marik.

"What's wrong with my eyes?"

One moment they were just staring at each other, the sprinkling sound of the water in the background. Water was everywhere.

Marik waited for Bakura to say something, but his gaze had fogged up, something seemed to move inside the both of them. Marik's grip around his hips tightened and Bakura instantly grabbed Marik around the neck, pulling him close. The kiss was short, their lips felt hot compared to the cold water dripping down Bakura's body.

That one short movement triggered something in Marik. That little touch was enough to bring back all the memories they had together. Memories of their bodies touching. Memories that he so desperately wanted to forget. Marik bit his lip and looked at Bakura, who was just as dumb-founded as he was. He cupped Bakura's face to give him an even deeper kiss.

Then they broke off. Marik turned off the water hose and stepped quickly back. Bakura stood in the bathtub, shivering. He wanted to say something, but the moment he opened his mouth a towel was thrown in his face and he heard Marik's strangled voice.

"Dry yourself and then go back to bed." With that he left the bathroom.

Bakura sighed, stepped out of the bath and rubbed himself dry as best as he could while walking out of the room. He didn't care that he made a mess. He wrapped the towel around his hips to cover the essential, not really caring that he was nearly naked. The door to Marik's bedroom was shut and Bakura's eyes narrowed to slits.

"I thought we had gone through that already. I am ba~d," he made a vague wave with his hand accompanying his mocking tone, "and you're the goody two shoes, trying to forget about me." He snickered and brushed through his wet hair. "So yeah, we both went separate ways and I decided to come back to Egypt - not because of you, just so you won't get any ideas, idiot."

"But we can both be dramatic about it, fight again and you can cry your heart out," Bakura made exaggerated sniffing sounds," or... you just accept this weird little get together as what it is and stop acting like a drama queen."

Bakura opened the door and saw Marik inside, sitting on the bed, his face buried in his hands. He didn't know what to do. He was tired of thinking. He was no longer annoyed at the sight of Marik. He wondered how he would react if he got closer. His back was facing him. His hands reached out to him before deciding against it and stopping right behind him.

"I'm not a goody two shoes, asshole", Marik said as Bakura approached the bed.

"What do you want from me?" he continued, finally turning around so Bakura could look at him. He was watching the light being reflected in Marik's eyes before leaning down to kiss him.

"I want you to quit crying like a baby or I will kick your ass," Bakura muttered, sticking out his tongue.

"I'm not crying, idiot," Marik said and quickly rubbed his face with his sleeve. The urge to touch him overcame him and his hand teased through Bakura's voluminous hair.

Bakura leaned into the touch, sighing and rubbing his cheek against Marik's palm before catching himself. No, he can't allow himself such a moment of weakness and behave so submissively. He kneeled on the mattress and gathered all of his new-found strength to push his weight against Marik. Finally he fell back onto the bed with Bakura climbing on top of him. Marik yelped, but buried his hands deeper into Bakura's hair and pushed their lips together.

The first kisses were pretty shy, but soon their kisses got slower and deeper. Bakura's hands wandered off to the hem of Marik's shirt, urging him to remove it. His partner snorted and waited until Bakura took it off. Sitting up above Marik, Bakura crossed his arms and scowled down at the muscle flexing over Marik's stomach, like they had offended him personally.

"What?" Marik asked but was silenced by Bakura's teeth that bit right into his abdominal muscle.  
"Ouch! Hey what is wrong with you?"

"Sorry, couldn't help myself," Bakura muttered and licked over the bite apologetically. His fingers stroked over every single muscle, adoring it and licking over it with his tongue and kissing it.

"Hey you, that's not fair! I want my share too," Marik grinned and waited until Bakura let his guard down. The next second Bakura found himself in reverse position, underneath Marik. Looking surprised, he opened his mouth to snarl at Marik once more. Marik, however, noticed how red Bakura's face was and kissed it gently.

"You're heavy," Bakura said, frowning and looking to the side, but wrapped his arms around Marik's back to press him closer.

"Your actions don't quite fit your words," Marik lifted Bakura's chin and put a finger on his lips. Bakura wanted to bite off his finger for that statement, instead he decided to suck on it instead. Marik watched awe-struck and rested the other hand on Bakura's stomach.

"WOAH! Stop that!!," Bakura screamed all of a sudden and their heads nearly collided because the white-haired boy was trying to sit up.

"You okay?" Marik had a worried look in his face, and stroked Bakura's hair out of his face. The latter looked away, trying to hide his red cheeks. "Don't.. touch me there."

"Oh, is it unpleasant? Sorry."

Bakura sighed and hid his face some more with his arms. "Not 'unpleasant', but just don't do it or you DIE!"

Marik stared down at Bakura, intrigued and curious. "Oh I see, so you're ticklish," he said matter of fact. The next second, Marik quickly put his mouth on Bakura's stomach and blew a raspberry.

The effect was almost delicious.

Bakura cringed and made an unearthly sound that Marik would make sure to never forget in his life.  
He kissed Bakura's tomato red face before he even had the chance to properly hit him anywhere. He quickly grabbed his arms and pulled them over his head, before giving his stomach attention again. This time it was soft kisses from his neck, to his chest, fully paying attention to which touch Bakura's body reacted the most.

Bakura pressed his lips together as Marik's mouth got dangerously close to his navel. His tongue, however, was too much apparently and he let out a long-drawn moan. Angry fists hit over Marik's head and towed at his bushy hair.

"Ouch! That hurt!", Marik shouted angrily, but Bakura's face was enough to silence him. He quickly kissed those juicy lips, cupping his red face and rubbing his neck.

"Stop - it - this - instant," was all that he managed to say with his heavy breathing. He covered his upper body with his arms and turned to his side.

"Are you suuure you want me to stop?" Marik whispered. He took Bakura's silence as a "No" and fumbled with his belt to take it off.

Bakura eyed the belt suspiciously and raised an eyebrow. "What are you trying to do?"

"This is just too interesting," he breathed, not able to hide how excited he was for having found such a nice spot on Bakura's body. Before Bakura could change his mind, he wrapped the leather over his wrists and fastened it to the belt. It was loose enough to give him leeway and not hurt him, but tight enough to hinder Bakura from covering his body.

"What kind of weird wet dream are you trying to realize here, bastard?" Bakura hissed. Their faces got closer again, looking at each other. "I'm going to kill you."

Marik shut him up with a kiss. He knew that if Bakura really didn't like it, he would have said so. But he let him do as he pleased, something he was a little surprised about.

"I will take it off if it hurts you."

This time the kiss was longer and less rushed. Marik hummed against Bakura's lips, grazing his lower lip gently with his teeth. Bakura obediently opened his mouth, inviting his tongue. Marik grabbed his thighs closer against his body, putting himself between them, their hips moving in a slow rhythm. Bakura sighed into the kiss, secretly craving more body contact. His legs had wrapped around his partner's hips, pulling him in even more.

"So you do like it," Marik laughed into Bakura's ear. The man bit him in the cheek as a response, a trail of saliva still on his lips.

"Urgh just cut the crap and kiss me," Bakura mumbled, licking the corners of his mouth invitingly.

Marik didn't have any objection to that, redirecting all of his attention to Bakura's mouth. His tongue drew along his lips, while his hands let go of his thighs to touch his chest. The boy underneath him flinched at that and Marik made sure to not touch him too lightly or tickle him too much. It had to be enjoyable for him too, after all. Still, Bakura squirming and flinching beneath him was turning him on. He drew slow circles around his pale chest, cautiously pulling his fingers underneath the Millennium Ring to get even higher.

Bakura yelled in protest. His cheeks had gotten bright red and he flinched at every new centimeter of Marik's hand touching his skin. He broke their kiss to look down on Bakura.

"Is this still okay?" Marik asked. Bakura growled but urged Marik to continue by kissing his neck.

Without having to hold Bakura's arms in place, Marik could focus fully on Bakura's sensitive body. He happily moved on to kiss his pink nipples, circling his tongue around them and gently biting into them. Meanwhile, his hands were moving lower, over his stomach to the sides, greedily taking in every movement of his muscles. He sucked at each of them, Bakura hissing and grinding up against Marik.

He brushed over the towel covering Bakura's privates and 'accidentally' grazed his forming bulge.  
Bakura bit his lip and glared at the man above him. Marik decided that this was the expression he made when he suppressed a particularly loud moan. Smiling to himself, he turned away from the chest and moved down in search for other 'interesting' spots.

He soon found his new target as he lifted Bakura's legs, kissing the insides of his thighs. Bakura gasped and towed at the belt out of reflex.

"Stop that! Urgh!" Bakura was angry that Ryou's body was so sensitive. He was even angrier at the sight of Marik, who obviously enjoyed what he was doing. The anger was forgotten when Marik rose up for just a second to grin at Bakura and kiss his forehead. He made sure his hands were okay.

"You want me to take off the belt?"he asked, checking his wrists. Bakura quickly nodded, frowning at Marik for being so considerate. His hands free, he rubbed them where the leather had made contact with his skin when he had been towing against the belt. Marik touched them gently and kissed the faint red marks that the belt had left on Bakura's wrists. A fluttering feeling in Bakura's chest told him that he secretly loved being cared for, and it was a foreign concept to him.

To make matters worse, Marik's hands were doing something else than Marik's mouth. Marik went back town to kiss Bakura's thighs, while hands were touching everywhere else. He felt underneath the towel to grab Bakura’s cock.

Bakura didn't expect the sudden touch /down there/ and curled his back, tilting his head to the ceiling. Now that his hands were free, he dug them deep into Marik's back. The moan escaped his lips and he bit down on them hard as to punish them for showing Marik a confirmation to what he was doing. No, he would rather die once more than admit that Marik was good at what he was doing.

At the same time, his hand teased his pulsing cock, which had gotten irritatingly hard while Marik took advantage of the sensitive skin.

Feeling his way up Bakura's leg with his lips, Marik was surprised how soft his skin was. He gently bit into it, it was as soft as marshmallow. Bakura's little gasps were all the confirmation he needed to continue the kisses around his thighs, slowly moving closer to the needy erection. His hand wrapped around, squeezing ever so lightly.

The sight underneath Marik was simply a feast. Bakura had buried his face into Marik's pillow, tossing it to the side and keeping his eyes shut, obviously focused on suppressing any annoying sound that could escape and expose how much he liked being touched. His legs twitched helplessly under the grip, his fingers curled into the sheets, holding on for dear life. Marik felt that this was enough punishment for now and released Bakura's hard cock from his fingers, placing a quick kiss on it before drawing his tongue over his full length. Bakura moaned and quickly buried his face more into the pillow, biting into the fabric.

Marik lifted his head slightly, looking up to him between his thighs.

"It's okay, Bakura," he said in his calm tone," you can wind down and relax for once."

Bakura grunted that he should shut up before another moan erupted from him because Marik had enough of restraining himself and took all of Bakura into his mouth. He greedily took in Bakura's scent, pressing his fingers into the skin of his waist and stroking his lower stomach. Bakura groaned, all of his inhibitions were forgotten instantly and his voice reached a volume that Marik had been waiting for.

Marik took it as a sign to pick up the pace, his hands resting right underneath Bakura's knees. He enjoyed the sensation of his partner's full length inside his mouth, sucking him off. His hands moved up towards the stomach again, teasing his skin and brushing his nipples. Without warning, Bakura screamed out Marik's name and came.

Marik took everything in, enjoying Bakura's orgasm before brushing over him for the last time. He licked his lips in relish, swallowing and wiping his sweaty forehead. But compared to him, Bakura was a mess. He softly moaned at Bakura's flushed face, his heaving chest and the way his fingers were still tangled in the sheets. He settled above him, his gaze fixed on Bakura’s face, and began stroking himself too. Bakura lifted one arm to touch Marik’s face, stroking and kissing his jawline as he got close. He came right on Bakura’s stomach. Panting heavily, he fell down next to him on the mattress, satisfied and suddenly exhausted. He slung one arm around him and brushed through Bakura’s hair.

"Fuck you." Bakura said, squeezing his hot face against Marik's chest. He took it as a thank you.

His face was so cute, Marik couldn't help but lift it up to stare at him. His cheeks were so round and red he just had to give them a smooch, they nearly looked tasty and alluring to bite into softly. He couldn't stop showering him with little kisses, pressing Bakura against him. Bakura tried to voice more little threats, but was too weak and decided to settle for scowling at him lightly before falling asleep in his arms.


End file.
